


Mickey Milkovich Ain't No Sap

by huntertomyangel (orphan_account)



Category: Shameless - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, this is just straight up sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/huntertomyangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey Milkovich ain’t no sap, unless he was pissed drunk and had a boyfriend who lived a few blocks away from the Alibi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mickey Milkovich Ain't No Sap

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by this lovely fanart by [m-miilk](http://m-miilk.tumblr.com/) [[x]](http://m-miilk.tumblr.com/post/76669762040/in-which-mickey-gets-fuckin-wasted-and-ends-up-at)

Mickey Milkovich ain’t no sap. He didn’t give flowers or do romantic shit like that. He never did and never will, not for no one. There were sometimes where he watched Ian’s favorite movie, even if he thought it was stupid as hell. He gave Ian his criss-cut fries because he knew he loved them. There was that one time that he helped Ian drag a drunk Lip back into his dorm room and made sure he wouldn’t fill his lungs full of vomit. But that didn’t make him a sap! Mickey Milkovich ain’t no softie, not for no one. He was the toughest badass on the South Side. There was one night where he had to work late at The Alibi, apparently some drunk customers were harassing the girls even more so so Mickey had to play bodyguard. He wasn’t expecting to come home so damn late and so damn wasted.

“Hey, Gallag’r!” A loud voice pulled Ian’s nose out from his magazine. He frowned and closed the magazine, hearing a pebble be thrown at a window. “Fuck’n come downnn!” The slurred voice yelled, was that Mickey? Ian stood up and went downstairs to the door and poked his head out. Mickey was swaying slightly, making the rusting fence bend under his weight just slightly. He smirked and shook his head, leaning against the frame of the door. “You’re so wasted.” Ian could practically smell the booze on his breath from here. Mickey rolled his eyes so dramatically, Ian thought they might pop out of his head. “Shut th’ fuck up ‘n c’mere” Mickey mumbled, stumbling over his steps slightly.

Ian sighed and stepped out into the chilly February air, walking up to his boyfriend. “I thought you were working, not getting wasted.” Ian smirked, poking at Mickey’s rosy cheek. Mickey sluggishly pushed his hand away and shook his head. “I was workin’, Kev gave e’eryone shots… for… for… the twinsss… birfday...” Mickey nodded, confirming his words as if he had already forgotten what the shots were for. “Jesus, c’mon, it’s freezing out, I’ll get you some water.” Ian chuckled, tugging on Mickey’s arm but was surprised when Mickey pulled away, holding his arm even tighter behind his back. He frowned as Mickey hiccuped and licked over his lips.

“Got you somethin’... gimme yer fuck’n hand…” Mickey ushered, grabbing for Ian’s arm. He pulled Ian closer and brought his other hand around, placing the stems into his grasp. Ian lifted up the flowers curiously. They were pretty shitty looking. The flowers were barely starting to grow back around here and they were weak and bruised, some were weeds too. They looked like they were just picked out of the ground, there was even some clumps of dirt on the tangled roots. Ian couldn’t help but let the shy smile creep up on his face, watching as Mickey, as wasted as he was, bashfully look away. He leaned in close and pecked his cheek. “I love ‘em… now c’mon, you drunk.” Ian smiled, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s waist and dragged him into the house. “W-Wha, no, y’can’t love ‘em, yer supposed to love meee…” Mickey slurred, leaning on Ian with his full weight. Ian chuckled and hauled Mickey into the house and onto the couch. “I do love you, dumb ass. Now sit still and let me get you some water.” Ian walked into the kitchen and grabbed two cups. He filled them both up with the tap and dropped the flowers into one and returned to the living room with the other. By the time he got there, Mickey was already passed out, probably wouldn’t even remember giving Ian the flowers by tomorrow. Mickey Milkovich didn’t give flowers. Ian sighed and grabbed the ratty blanket that was draped over the couch and crawled into the small space next to Mickey, spooning him as he covered their bodies with the blanket. Mickey Milkovich ain’t no sap, unless he was pissed drunk and had a boyfriend who lived a few blocks away from the Alibi.


End file.
